


maybe you weren't too bad...

by wholesome_muffin



Series: adoption au <33 [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Eating Disorders, Gen, How Do I Tag, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Sleepyboisinc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-23 13:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholesome_muffin/pseuds/wholesome_muffin
Summary: SBI adoption fic, but make Tommy angsty and abused! General tw: ED, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, implied abuse, minor character death, suicidal thoughtsTW at the start of each chapter, but no TW in front of scenes. TW are not skippable.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: adoption au <33 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216286
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54
Collections: sbi adoption fics w/ friends <33





	1. a rather strange phone call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alpha_1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha_1/gifts).



> // beginning notes: lowercase intended. written by wholesome_muffin. there’s swearing, of course there is it’s a tommy fic. and lots of angst.
> 
> tws: ed, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, implied abuse

tws: ed, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, implied abuse

\----

tommy pov

tommy assumed he’d never be able to settle down. nobody liked him, and least of all did he like himself.

it was rather sad, to be honest. he’d been shuffled around from foster house to foster house. there were the bad ones, the ones where they did bad things to him. he had scars to prove it. but tommy had also been in some relatively good homes, but they never lasted. the foster carers would always turn up to collect him, cheery and full of hope and like nothing could go wrong. but tommy always made things wrong, and having a good home just made moving on harder.

tommy despised the good homes. it was easier to be in a decent home, where they fed him and didn’t hurt him but they didn’t spoil him either. he supposed a bad home wasn’t the worst of things either; he’d gotten used to the bad homes to be honest. they weren’t exactly good, but he had a low standard of what was “good”. and the objectively nice homes were not part of his definition of a good home.

well, nobody had come to adopt him for the past- how long had it been since somebody had taken him in? six months? seven? it had been a long while. and while tommy was fine with staying in the government foster home, he was beginning to get a little sick of it.

that was a given. anybody would be sick of living in a cramped house with 12 other children to deal with and a caretaker who was, to be honest, a complete and total bitch. her name was dolores but everybody just called her ‘caretaker’.

but then again, tommy had been in worse. he was more than happy to stay in the foster home as long as he was fed just enough to keep him from starving. sometimes his never-ending hunger seemed somewhat satiated, which didn’t happen often. still though he hated eating more than he needed to. he felt so ugly when he ate too much

the foster home was where tommy wanted to stay for a while. he wouldn’t mind a little more food and some better fitting, cleaner clothes but for the most part he was satisfied. satisfied in the fact that he wasn’t dying to some horrible, unfortunate condition like cholera.

now that tommy thinked about it, maybe his life wasn’t as bad as it seemed. dying to cholera, a disease that killed you with actual and literal shit would be so much worse.

but he digressed. and he was more than surprised to hear the foster home’s caretaker yell from her ‘office’, down the hallway into the living room where he was sat reading and thinking.

“tommy, ya son of a bitch, come here for fuck’s sake. there’s a man ever so kind enough to offer to take you little gremlin child out of this home. i say you speak as kindly as ya can, it would be a real shame if you didn’t get taken. ya here me? be nice or you’ll regret it.”

the caretaker swore a lot too. more than tommy, to be honest, which was kind of surprising.

but as she thundered down the hall with her cordless phone in hand, tommy knew better than to object. he graciously accepted the phone from the caretaker (who was all but thrusting it into his hands) and put it to his ear.

“hello?” tommy spoke quietly. he didn’t want to come off as annoying as the stranger’s first impression, and it totally had absolutely nothing to do with the foster home caretaker’s very nice gestures to him.

a moment later, a voice issued from the other side of the phone. “hello, mate! my name’s philza watson, but phil is fine. you’re tommy, i assume?”

“yes, sir.” tommy was trembling like a leaf in the wind. phil sounded nice. very nice. and that was something tommy didn’t like much.

“son, i told ya just phil is fine. so, toms, how would you like coming to my place? i’d be more than happy to foster you!” phil spoke to tommy amicably, as if they were old friends catching up. tommy felt a mixture of disappointment that phil was so, so nice and a hint of a warm feeling that came from being addressed nicely.

“that would be really nice, si- phil.” tommy’s voice cracked mid sentence as he corrected himself to say phil, not sir, and he flinched when the caretaker glared at him from across the room where she was sat.

“alrighty, mate. would you mind if i talked to the caretaker, dolores was it? i wouldn’t want to waste any time at all making arrangements.”

“it’s honestly not a problem if you want to talk to d-dolores! here, i’ll put you through to her…” tommy was quite near hyperventilating from the glare dolores-the-caretaker was sending him. one of the kids he shared the foster house with poked her head out of her room, and shot a sympathetic glance towards tommy. that was amalia, a girl of about 14. she was one of tommy’s only friends in the foster house.

dolores snatched the cordless phone from tommy’s hands. putting on a sweet facade and a fake, fake smile to brighten her tone, she spoke. “yes, phil, this is dolores speaking. so, do you want to foster him?” the last sentence was spoken rather aggressively.

a pause.

“oh, that would be absolutely marvelous! would tomorrow, three o’clock be okay for you?”

dolores listened carefully to what phil said through the phone speaker.

“four pm? yes, that can most certainly be arranged! it’s a three-hour journey, isn’t it?”

tommy could just make out a mumbling of affirmation from phil’s side.

“okay, i’ll have all the documents ready by four pm tomorrow. i look forwards to seeing you then, phil!”

phil mumbled assent and they bid farewells. when dolores put the phone down, she had a emotion in her eyes that tommy had never been on the receiving end of.

kindness.

“toms, phil seems like a rather nice man! you’re really lucky that he decided to take you in,” dolores started. tommy knew this wasn’t going to end well. he could feel it, she was being to sugar-sweet.

he waited for a slap, a blow, even just a raise of the tone of her voice. but nothing like that happened.

“would you like to choose something out from the grocery store as a special treat?”

ah. tommy got it now- she was excited come the day and time phil came to pick him up. it seemed like she had been waiting for this very moment for years.

but tommy knew better than to reject her offer. even though the idea of eating more than he needed to survive repulsed him.

“yes, ma’am. i would absolutely love it.”

***

dolores had given him a ten dollar budget and had allowed tommy to browse through the confectionary and chocolate isle while she shopped for the bare essentials. he came back with two small packs of chewing gum- a large enough purchase for caretaker- no, dolores- to not be suspicious, but it was a treat he could enjoy without feeling self-concious and stupid and fat and ugly-

tommy took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. he wasn’t going to have a panic attack at the shops, even though his anxiety was practically melting down his nervous system.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2-

slowly his breathing evened out from the stuttering gasps it had been earlier. he was no longer hyperventilating, and tommy’s self confidence wasn’t in shambles. well, not as in shambles as before.

it was all okay. for now.

rushing back to where he had last seen caretaker dolores, he found her quickly and deposited the gum into her trolley, also informing her that it was only five dollars and sixty-five cents. dolores was satisfied with his purchase, and soon they were at the checkout, paying for the groceries.

dolores hummed happily as she handed the cashier a fifty-dollar note and another twenty, receiving about five dollars of change. she led tommy out of the grocery.

“well, tommy, ya gotta look somewhat presentable for phil, mate? we’re getting ya new clothes.”

clothes shopping- disgusting. as soon as he arrived at phil’s place, he would either buy new clothes that hid how skinny he was or just wear one of his old, oversized hoodies.

but thirty minutes and a couple of changing room trips later, tommy burst out of the clothes store, feeling a little bit… frazzled. clothes shopping? definitely not his thing at all. how did girls stand it anyways? but women was a sensitive topic for tommy, so he brushed over the thought.

they left the store. tommy was glad, there were a few too many women in the store for his liking. wait- no, he definitely did not feel intimidated with so many women, he was tommyinnit the great attractor of all women- nope, not at all. definitely not.

ok, so maybe he was just a little bit uncomfortable. the teensiest, tiniest bit uncomfortable.

the trip back was mostly uneventful. dolores put on some strange pop music- the singer liked women, it was a love song- and tommy stayed quiet, pulling out a piece of gum from the first pack and chewing it while staring out of the window. he honestly liked this side of dolores, but the fact that he knew how disappointed and angry she would be after he returned managed to sober him, stop him from being high on this newfound pleasure.

not that he couldn’t be high on other things, but that was a different case. he wasn’t going to start doing drugs, was he?

huh.

when they arrived back at the small housing block that served as a foster care home, tommy was immediately engulfed by a hug from amalia. she was like a younger sister, albeit she could be a little annoying like a younger sibling was obliged to be.

“i heard dolores talking to someone on the phone. is it true?” she questioned, voice wavering like she was going to cry.

tommy didn’t need to clarify. she knew, and he knew, that they were on the topic of being taken in or even adopted forever. but he sensed sadness in the silence between them, so tommy spoke.

“well, yes, it’s true but i’ll see you again, won’t i? i always come back one way or another, and you see- i’ll always have to be here to annoy you for eternity. i wouldn’t want to, you know, let somebody else here like chris or diane take my job of annoying you, right? and i’ll miss you but i definitely won’t miss you annoying me.” amalia sniffled a bit at the words, but put on a facade of a smile and managed to nod her head shakily.

“tommy, you’ve got to pack your stuff now! after you wake up i’ll have to have some help arranging these papers, so you should finish preparing most of your stuff today.” dolores called down the hall to where amalia was clinging onto tommy.

“alright, alright, i’ll talk to you later amalia. i have to go pack.”

***

tommy didn’t have much to pack. he stuffed his toothpaste into his bag and his toothbrush as well (he would take them out to brush his teeth later), more toiletries, and a little journal he carried around. he might write in it when he got to phil’s place. he stuffed his clothes in, including the new ones, and set aside a t-shirt and some long pants to wear tomorrow. after that all he needed to do was pack his minor things- the charger for the brick-like device that couldn’t quite be called a phone and his earphones. he’d do that last minute before he was adopted. or at least, taken to a new home and returned for being problematic.

after he was satisfied, he exited his room. it was approximately 6:30pm, dinner time, so tommy skulked down to the dining room. he didn’t eat much, he felt too nervous to eat and besides he didn’t want to look fat in front of phil. sure, he was twig-thin but it didn’t stop anxiety from chewing away at his self confidence.

the rest of the day was mostly uneventful. he doodled a bit, messed around with the metal lump he called a “phone” and eventually lay down, read for a while and slept.

if only rest could come easy.

//tw panic attack & car crash memories

tommy woke up gasping- a stammering breath escaping his throat.

not now, not now! i need to sleep-

tommy had panic attacks a couple of times a week. some were small, like the one in the grocery store- those were the ones he didn't count. he had the more serious panic attacks a couple of times a week- that was a truer statement.

a woman screams as a car spins out of control, tyres squealing against damp asphalt as a small plume of smoke escapes from between the road and the wheels. she’s tommy’s mother, and tommy’s father, who is driving, barely has the time to yell before the sliding and slipping car collides. tommy’s parents slump back, unconscious, and his mother has a small trickle of blood running down her face from her nose.

“wake up! wake up!” tommy screeched. but they didn’t, the wouldn’t and they couldn’t-

“somebody call an ambulance!” the panicked cries of a stranger reached tommy’s ears but he couldn’t speak. he was only seven, his parents couldn’t be dead, this wasn’t possible-

silence rang in his ears and it was only then that he realised his hands were clasped firmly over his ears. tommy hated the flashbacks. even though he got to see his parents again, move back through time- he absolutely, completely hated them.

tommy made sure he was quiet as he tried to even out his breathing. holy sh--, it was late- it was two in the morning and the other children at the foster home had to go to school- it was monday.

but he found himself spiralling out of control. the crash had been nearly ten years ago, why did it still affect him? why was tommy so not-in-control? the panic made him feel so, so worthless and he didn’t want to do anything but just sleep. why did a panic attack have to creep up on him?

a single tear traced his cheek and he collapsed back onto his pillow, having not realised he had bolted straight upright. tommy let himself sob once into his pillowcase, then proceeded to try and calm himself.

breathe in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out-

he was so, so very angry with himself for letting the panic consume him.

***

tommy woke up at about eleven in the morning. nobody was downstairs, as expected- they had all gone to school. he, however, was being taken in, a fact which he was so painfully reminded with the emptiness of the house. and phil probably had a nice house, which would make it worse.

tommy really didn’t want four pm to come.

but after a while, and several tens of papers later, it was just about four pm and tommy was scared half to death. phil seemed nice, and he didn’t want to ruin this chance. the doorbell rang, and phil was standing there.

dolores opened the door, and phil grinned broadly at tommy.

“hey, toms, you wanna come with me?”


	2. the first week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy's first days at phil's house go... interestingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small tw for a panic attack late in the chapter <33
> 
> posting on my phone formatting will be hell

tommy piled his stuff into phil’s car, which wasn’t hard considering all of his worldly possessions were held within a single bag. phil had a nice car, which he liked. the leather seats were a pretty cream colour and it was not too big, but not cramped at all. spacious was the word. spacious.

with his stuff in the back tommy climbed into the passenger seat. well, at least he was going to until he realised this was a  _ stranger’s car _ , and he paused awkwardly, hesitant to continue into the car. but phil just chuckled and beckoned for him to sit on the passenger seat. so tommy did as told, and climbed in. the seats were really soft.

the radio was tuned to a station that tommy rather liked, not that he would’ve admitted it. the music was soft and mellow, but sad and quiet. he bet nobody expected him to like this kind of music- pop would’ve been their first assumption. after listening to it for a while, he recognised the song as ‘your unfinished symphony’ by kanaya. it had been played once on the radio at the old foster home with dolores.

why was he already thinking of the foster home as something of the past? why?

but the singer, kanaya, paid no attention to his rambling thoughts, and a few words registered in tommy’s mind.

“i feel so alone, so cramped up at the same time

missing you is a crime   
but who am I too lie?   
oh, look at you now   
trying to mend the bond   
oh, what happened to the figure I used to know?”

kanaya’s tone was slightly sorrowful as she sang, and tommy wouldn’t ever say this out loud but she was a good singer. for a woman.

[link pog --> [ your unfinished symphony ](https://youtu.be/TMek8yUK5lY) ]

phil spoke, dragging tommy out of his reverie. “hey, tommy, what’s your favourite colour?” it seemed less like an actual conversation and more of an excuse to break the awkward silence punctuated by kanaya’s breaths and the gaps between verses.

“red,” he responded, because it was true. “red is my favourite colour because it’s loud and fucking obnoxious and is never accepted. like me.”

phil was speechless for a moment, then quickly regained his composure. “oh. red is a really nice colour, you know?” tommy was silent. he didn’t know how to respond. “i’ve got three other boys in the house, they’re all adopted so you’d fit right in. i look fucking tiny compared to them, they’re all so tall.”

tommy paused. he was rather tall, but he was also skinny. he didn’t like eating. but three other kids? he didn’t want to interact with other kids his age. not at all. but phil hadn’t even batted an eyelid as he said that. it was almost like the worst news hadn’t just been spoken. but it had, and there was nothing that could change that.

but the silence quickly lulled him into sleep, and the quick cessation of the car’s familiar hum awoke him as phil pulled into the driveway. it was approximately seven pm, so tommy awoke to dusk- something which surprised him for a moment until he realised where he was. “hey, buddy, we’re here. do you want something to eat?” phil said softly, being careful not to wake tommy if he was still asleep. alas, he wasn’t so tommy wiped sleep away from his eyes and opened them, groaning and not quite willing to wake.  _ fuck.  _ he had to eat.

but he trudged after phil and unwillingly followed him to the front door.

the key was inserted into the keyhole, and turned, and the door to a new phase of his life opened slowly, painfully, with a small creak.

***

“wil, techno, this is tommy. his parents are…” phil trailed off, not wanting to upset tommy. but the two other children were obviously adopted too- they simply looked him down for a moment and then nodded slightly. they understood, and that made tommy a little bit more comfortable. not that he really felt very comfortable in the first place. 

phil decided to give him a tour first thing as soon as he stepped foot in the house. it took about fifteen minutes, seeing as the house was big enough for three children, phil and there was still room for more people. tommy was a little uncomfortable, but he hid it pretty well. as soon as phil got to the room tommy was staying in, tommy slipped in and promptly disappeared into it, dumping his bag into the corned and pulling out the brick that was called a “phone” somehow.

after fiddling around with the few games that worked on his ‘phone’, tommy quickly became bored and decided to read for a bit. there were a couple of books on the nightstand, and tommy quickly became engrossed by the magical universe painted by  _ harry potter _ . he’d had a deprived childhood, having been put in the foster system since he was seven, so it was his first time reading it. and although there were a few too many woman characters for tommy to give it five stars out of five, the first book was easily one of tommy’s favourites.

phil knocked gently on the door and creaked it open, a small gap from which light poured in. tommy leapt up to open the door for phil, and gratefully accepted the meal. it was rather small, to tommy’s relief, but he was hungry- and maybe treating himself for just a day wouldn’t hurt.

he wolfed down the contents of the plate- a baked potato and some other assorted morsels tommy wasn’t willing to think about as he ate. he didn’t quite want to think about the fact that he was eating- he’d been doing so well but he had to just eat. it was okay, tommy tried to convince himself. it was okay.

he placed the plate out in the hall, and quietly started to unpack his things. they weren’t much, admittedly, just a few clothes and his journal, his toiletries and an assortment of pens and pencils for writing with. tommy’s phone was already tossed carelessly on the bed, some sleeping meds and there was the packets of gum. he’d forgotten that he’d bought those. taking out a stick, he chewed it while deep in thought. phil seemed like a nice man. maybe he could afford to stay comfortable here just until he thought he would get kicked out.

needless to say, tommy was feeling rather worn out and exhausted. car rides always did that to him. so taking the glass of water from where phil had left it next to his dinner, he downed a sleeping pill and waited impatiently for its effects to kick in. he slipped off his shoes, changed into pajamas and lay on the bed. slowly, but surely, the grogginess from the pill took over and he was dragged into a deep, dreamless and clear sleep.

***

tommy didn’t see much of the other kids. phil had let him skip school for the first week to let him get used to the new house, but he seriously doubted phil would keep him for that much time. so he tried to enjoy the days being off school. tommy didn’t really want to leave this house, though. there was something nice about the... energy in this household. he could even feel that maybe, if he tried interacting with phil’s other kids they’d be accepting.

he hoped.

but with his days not filled with school, he had plenty of time to himself and in the week that he’d had to himself tommy finished the harry potter series. they were pretty good, he admitted.

on the fourth day at phil’s house, tommy finally didn’t need the sleeping meds to fall asleep. he no longer felt nervous, nor did he have any panic attacks at all. that was, as he liked to say, pretty poggers. pog was a word he’d heard on videos on his phone, and tommy’d taken a liking to using the word. 

hmm.

but the only downside to not taking his sleeping meds was that he awoke much easier. his sleep was restless and light from the lack of medical aid. so he woke at two am- an ungodly hour to say the least. now that he thought about it, he  _ was _ rather hungry.

as he trotted downstairs to where the pantry was, he was almost scared to death by a flash of pink. because there, sitting on the couch with the reading light on, was technoblade himself, reading  _ the art of war _ by sun tzu. 

“holy shit-” tommy almost started ranting, then realised this was one of phil’s children, not one of the older teens from the foster home. his face blushed a bright shade of pink, almost the same as techno’s hair, and he felt utterly and totally embarrassed. 

“hey,” techno mumbled. his voice was a complete monotone, devoid of all emotion and deep to the point that it sounded gravelly. tommy was slightly taken aback; he didn’t know somebody could sound so dead inside. ever. techno was about five years older than tommy, so of course his voice would be deeper- but this? he sounded like he had been brought back from the dead and his vocal cords had never quite recovered.

“uh, hi i guess… do you know where the pantry is?” tommy knew from phil’s tour already, but he feigned ignorance to try and get more out of techno. but techno seemed just as hopeless as tommy with social cues, and he awkwardly led tommy down to the pantry before going upstairs to continue reading  _ the art of war _ . tommy took an armful of mini-packs of chips to his room, before locking the door quickly and collapsing against the bedframe.

he didn’t exactly have the best first interaction with techno. but he still had the other guy- wilbur, was his name- to talk with. from what phil had described wilbur as, he seemed a little like a bitch boy. apparently he was a little whiny but really good at music and art, and was more of a ‘soft boy’ than anything. tommy didn’t really think much of him from that description. but still, if he’d learnt anything from being shuffled around from house to house it was that people were never who they seemed to be.

so tommy slept that night (or early morning, he supposed) thinking about how he would interact with wilbur.

and when he woke, he wasn’t surprised to find that wilbur was home, and techno was too. it was, after all, saturday. phil was cooking something- pancakes, by the smell of it- and pancakes sounded really good just about now.

_ your parents used to make pancakes, _ a voice in his head whispered softly.

//tw panic attack

a cold fist closed over tommy’s heart, but he refused to let it take hold properly. he tried his hardest to pry its brittle grip off his heart. it obviously wasn’t working.

_ fuck fuck fuck not now not now not now! _

he was half down the stairs and having a panic attack. how wonderful, tommy thought. he felt mildly amused by the fact that he could fall off the staircase at any moment. yep, he was going absolutely delirious! poggers!

but his head spun and his breathing quickened and he felt like vomiting but there was nothing to vomit and he couldn’t breathe at all and he felt so so sick and-

his thoughts spiralled out of control, panic taking over. he didn’t want to remember his parents he didn’t he really didn’t and he felt so bad and why did he have to remember now-

but it was just his emotions getting the better of him and thinking about that helped ground him. as he left his dream-like state of pure anxiety and panic, he eventually felt his senses come back. smell, hearing, taste- then sight and touch.

wait. why were there arms wrapped around his waist? why could he see techno’s pink locks in front of him, and the yellow sweater phil always described wilbur as wearing? why?

techno was holding tommy’s shoulders tightly, keeping him from falling off the stairs. wilbur was peering concernedly in tommy’s direction, and phil was wrapping his arms around tommy’s waist comfortingly. phil guided him down the stairs and onto one of the chairs in the dining room.

tommy’s first thought which wasn’t clouded with absolute panic was that wilbur, in fact, was not a complete and total bitch. he was kinda bitchy, tommy knew that from the way wilbur stared at him, obviously unsure of how to give comfort. but  _ technoblade?  _ of all people, he didn’t expect  _ technoblade _ to be the one to comfort him.

“hey, toms, you okay?” phil asked worriedly. tommy nodded timidly, his panic attack hadn’t completely gone away but he was feeling substansially calmer.

techno approached him after phil and wilbur had retreated to their rooms. he fiddled with his hands awkwardly, unsure how to phrase this. “tommy... just know that you can ask me for help, okay?” techno was clearly not the greatest socialiser of all times, a fact punctuated by his foot shuffling against the floor. “well, i guess- i used to have nightmares and panic attacks too. so i might not seem like the best person to go to… but the offer’s still there.” techno turned away, slightly unsure on how to end the conversation.

“uh- i guess i’ll see you around?”

“ha- not a chance in hell, bitch boy.” tommy smirked. “i’ll obviously be avoiding you at all costs,” he ended his statement with a tone dripping with treacle-thick sarcasm.

techno raised an eyebrow before swishing around, pink braid and all. which left tommy alone with a little confusion and a bit of happiness.

the rest of the day was mostly uneventful. tommy re-read the first few harry potter books. he fiddled around with his phone as always. it was pretty chill, and poggers, in tommy’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos and comment it makes my day <33333


	3. a/n + same-au oneshots! [nothing bad i promise]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a chapter just a bit of an update :))

so- i want to make this very clear.

**i do not plan on discontinuing or putting this book on hiatus, absolutely not! i have so many ideas for this au <33**

so, i'm thinking of starting some oneshots of things i didn't go into detail with in this au. for example, tommy's first interaction with techno- i could flesh that out in a separate oneshot. would you read it if i did this? that's just an example though, if i end up doing this adoption oneshots book i'll probably open requests. i'll make the book anyways but only a requests page, and i might add little moments here and there occasionally. but if you want regular updates for the oneshots just comment <33

also, i'm just going tp say- upload schedule? absolutely none, but at the very least once every week. if i post less than that expect me to be banned form my laptop/lost all motivation for a bit. hoping neither happens though! chapters should be 2000+ words long unless it's a filler chapter, a/n or i just have writer's block.

\+ if any of these ideas seem stolen from another sbi adoption au, it's probably subconscious. these adoption aus are my "comfort reads" so obviously out of the many i've seen, read and been inspired by there'll be at least a single prompt/idea the same as somebody else's.

i promise a new, non-filler chapter is in the works! not that any of the last two chapters were filler though. and another thought- would you read longer chapters so that i can ramble and self-project? if you want to keep it short and to the point let me know, but if you want longer chapters and more content but slower updates that's fine too! please leave a kudos and comment if you want me to do the oneshots + let me know your opinion about the chapter length and style!

i have a feeling that the last few sentences i just wrote didn't make sense grammatically please forgive me i'm feeling dead inside goodbye ilysm (platonically) for reading this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so- uh, yeah! that's all i had to say...
> 
> if you've read the previous chapters please leave a kudos, it makes my day <33


	4. there's a first and a last time for everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short half-fluffy chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, it is me with a short update. i'm really sorry this isn't the usual quality nor length- i lost my motivation on the floor of my room somewhere and just found where i left it so i wrote this in about 20 minutes because i felt bad for not updating. also, tubbo :D

it was monday, more specifically the monday after he had first arrived at phil’s house. considering how obnoxious he had been acting (he really wanted to get kicked out to ease the pain of being booted later) and how nice phil was in comparison to him, it was a miracle he was still in the house.

but he digressed. there were more important things to think about- namely, the fact that it was his first day at the fancy private school both wilbur and techno went to. phil had already picked out his uniform, and to be completely honest tommy didn’t have any other ‘nice’ clothes. he’d forgotten to ask phil to go clothes shopping, ugh. 

yet tommy found himself slipping into the itchy jumper and woollen pants that came with the uniform. on the crest read the words “whitfield boy’s college” [random name lmao]. what a fancy name, he thought. it didn’t seem like the type of school tommy would usually attend- it seemed like it actually had intellectual people unlike the shitholes he usually attended.

tommy kind of wanted to try and get expelled as quickly as possible. it would make the rejection from phil’s family quicker, more painless. but there was also the tug of something a little more responsible in his mind- no, he should appreciate this, enjoy the luxuries while he could. and so he followed the more sensible part of his mind and decided that he had to at least try not to cause trouble.

in hindsight, his plan was a little… flawed.

his day started off normally. tommy ate his breakfast- cereal and milk- and then it all started to fall apart, started to descend into chaos.

“phillll do i have to drive him?” wilbur whinged. “can’t he take the fucking schoolbus?” 

the look on phil’s face could have frozen a boiling cup of tea down to a tea-flavoured popsicle in seconds. wilbur blanched, and looked at tommy. “well- uh tommy you should get ready for school. i have a friend’s brother who can help you out, the school gave us your timetable and you’re in the same class as him for most of the day!” tommy nodded slowly, nursing his bowl of cereal, and after he had finished eating he rose and put his bowl and cutlery in the sink to wash.

tommy didn’t have much to pack in his bag, so he waited quietly next to the front door waiting for wilbur to come downstairs. meanwhile techno- who seemed to have gotten ready earlier- descended down the stairs and gave tommy a nonchalant wave. tommy mouthed “bitch, haha” and grinned like the gremlin he was, silently laughing. techno wasn’t too amused, and went to grab some of his things and pack his bag.

techno would be taking his own car to the school/college (whatever it was, really) and tommy had to go with wilbur so that he could “bond” with him. whatever that meant.

[author-chan just realised that it could be school or college in different parts of the world. i’ll be referring to it as school]

but he found himself drumming his fingertips against his knees in anticipation, distracting wilbur who told him very nicely to “stop tapping your knees, for fuck’s sake” and thinking about the 7.5 trillion things that could go wrong. [sorry not sorry]

the school approached. it looked very fancy and tommy didn’t really like that. from his experience the fancy one were where he would get bullied. but something about this felt… different.

they got out of the car and wilbur led him to a brown-haired boy who was significantly shorter than tommy. he resisted the urge to scoff but soon he was smiling broadly- the brown-haired boy’s playfulness was contagious.

wilbur left him with the boy and the boy introduced himself.

“hi! i’m toby- but everybody calls me tubbo. i heard you’re in basically all my classes, i think we’ll get on really well! oh! what’s your favourite animal? mine’s bees!” tommy almost groaned, but he couldn’t bring himself to. when was the last time somebody had talked to him and kept a conversation going for this long? honestly he couldn’t remember.

“my favourite’s cows, they’re cool.”

“really? yeah! cows are really cute too!” oh my god, tubbo was so energetic it felt like he was making tommy energised too. for goodness sake tommy could compare tubbo to a living, breathing uwu face.

[THIS IS PLATONIC IF YOU SHIP MINORS I DO NOT LIKE YOU GO AWAY IF YOU SHIP TOMMY AND TUBBO BITCHES]

but it seemed like tubbo’s playfulness wasn’t at all a hindrance. more times than one he saved tommy from falling asleep in class by passing notes, whispering and just entertaining tommy in general. were they friends? no. tommy bet tubbo was only friends with him because he was wilbur’s brother- no, wilbur’s parent’s legally adopted child. huh.

but the day passed by in a blur. this was tommy’s first good school day, it was the first school he really liked. history was not the greatest. english was bearable. maths was lowkey enjoyable. and enjoyable and maths in the same sentence? … not common.

but there’s a first and last time for everything. and tommy knew full well that this could be the last time he felt accepted, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza minecraft  
> kudos are cool and comments are too <33

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, please leave a kudos and comment- it makes my day!


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